Plain Jayne (3 page)

“As a matter of fact …” Was he crazy to even suggest it? Probably. Would she agree to it? Probably not. “I know a great place with plenty of room, kitchen’s available 24/7, open bar, flat screen, free wireless, and easy access to laundry services.”

A moment’s hesitation, a frown, then her blue eyes flew open. “No way.”

“Why not? It’s perfect.”

“No.”

Nick ignored her and kept driving. What could she do—jump out?

“To make up for being such a prick the last time he saw you, the owner’s offering free room and board for as long as you like.”

He could hear the arguments building behind her open-mouthed gape. Best to cut her off before she started.

“What’s the big deal? You need a room, and I’ve got one. Big one, too, with your own bathroom and a butt load of closet space.”

“Seriously?” She lifted her hands, palms up, and exhaled a snort that pretty much covered how stupid she thought he was. “
What’s the big deal?
You mean besides the fact it’s just flat-out weird?”

“Says who?” As far as he was concerned, it was a done deal. Hell, even if there were hotel rooms available, this made more sense.

“Says me!” She made a sound like a wounded bear, which only made Nick laugh. “We haven’t seen each other in four years, Nick, and before that—”

He rolled his eyes. “Before that you refused to stay with me because you thought Abby hated you.”

“She did!” The growl sounded again, slower, longer. “There was no way she would’ve let me stay with you and there was no way in hell I’d even ask.”

“Well, you’re not asking, and Abby’s not here to put up a fight, is she?”

That shut her up for a second; but only a second. “What are people going to think?”

“Who cares?” He followed the highway around past the ball field and over the bridge.

“Hello!” she snorted. “Does the name Debra Scott ring a bell? Jeez, Nick—your mother has found a way to blame me for every breakup you ever had, so if it even looks like I’ve come back to shack up with her darling little Nicky, she’s going to have me strung up in town square faster than you can say ‘Holy flying axe throw, Batman.’ ”

“Town square? Really?” He laughed, then pulled his arm out of reach when she made to smack him. “The gallows were dismantled a couple months back, so you’re probably pretty safe.”

“Very funny.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see she was shaking her head at him, but as he steered the truck into the exit lane, he caught the glimpse of a smile.

“Didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”

Damn it. He’d been seeing Lisa for a couple months now, and even though he didn’t consider it anything serious, he knew Lisa did. He’d have to at least let her know what was going on.

Jayne clicked her tongue. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.”

“So?”

“Oh my God, Nick, do you rent out that space in your head? No woman is going to be happy about her boyfriend inviting another woman to live with him.”

“It’ll be fine.” It was more of a hope than a lie. “So unless you’ve got someone who’s going to kick my ass for even suggesting this …”

He waited for her to answer, but when she didn’t, he laughed.

“I’ll take your silence as a no. Any other excuses?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Think fast, because we’re almost there.”

“This is crazy.”

“No. Driving back and forth to Vancouver every day is crazy; this is nothing.” At the stop sign, he glanced over and watched her chew her bottom lip. “I’m not saying you should move in permanently, just stay until we get your place fixed up. And trust me, my place is a hell of a lot better than a hotel room we both know will never be clean enough, no matter how much you clean it yourself.”

The second her nose wrinkled, he knew he had her.

“How did you survive the hotel rooms on the trip out, anyway?” he asked.

Her mouth twitched a little before she finally smiled. “I bought a sleeping bag.”

“And how many tubs of Lysol wipes did you go through?”

“Only two.” After a second, she sighed and lifted her left shoulder. “And a half.”

Two and a half tubs of wipes. He could have pulled the I-told-you-so card, but didn’t. Instead, he just drove on, waiting for her to realize he’d won.

“And what if your girlfriend freaks out?”

“Her name’s Lisa, and she won’t.” At least he hoped she wouldn’t.

“You don’t know that,” Jayne cried, fisting her hands against her knees. “What makes you think Linda’s going to feel any different than Abby did? I don’t want to screw this up for you.”

“It’s Lisa.” Nick sighed quietly. “And no one’s going to screw anything up, Jayne. If she can’t handle you and me, that’s her problem.”

“No, Nick, it usually ends up being my problem.” Jayne huffed so hard it was surprising she had any breath left to keep talking. “It’s not exactly normal that we’re … like this … and
you can’t blame people for thinking the worst.”

“What worst? If my best friend was a guy, there’d be no problem with him staying at my place, so I don’t get why it’s a problem to have you stay there.”

“The problem,” she ground out, “is that I’m not a guy. In case you hadn’t noticed, you idiot, I’m a girl.”

It was all Nick could do not to laugh out loud. They may have been best friends all these years, but he was still a guy.
He noticed
.

Admitting it, though, would only prove her point.

He wheeled the truck into the long driveway and threw it in park. “I’m telling you, Lisa won’t care. And if she does, that’s between her and me, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah, right. Until she goes crying to your mother and I end up on the top of the Debra Scott hit list again.”

“Not gonna happen. Besides”—he pushed the button on his visor and the garage door jerked then started rolling up—“there’s someone else who wants you to stay.”

A second later, his old basset hound came wobbling out from under the door, his tail swinging, his ears flapping along beside him.

“Duke!” Jayne was out of the truck before Nick pulled the key out of the ignition. Cooing and laughing, she dropped to the driveway, arms outstretched.

Nick climbed out of the truck and laughed as he walked over to where Duke had already climbed onto Jayne’s lap and was busy smothering her face in wet sloppy kisses.

“Looks like we got us a houseguest, buddy.”

Jayne’s mouth hung open and her eyes all but bulged out of their sockets. Nick had barely finished framing the house when Abby died, and given the situation at the funeral, Jayne had never been invited to see it. And rightly so.

*  *  *

The large sunken living room sat like a hub in the middle of the house. Complete with a huge rock fireplace and way-high ceilings, she could have fit her whole apartment in that one room! The furniture wasn’t anything fancy, but the flat screen was enormous and the brown leather recliners looked comfortable enough to sleep on.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll give you the twenty-five-cent tour.”

The living room eased into a big open kitchen and eating nook that looked out over a wide deck and a huge fenced-in backyard. Jayne ran her finger idly over the granite island, mesmerized by how much light flowed in through the long windows. For a single guy, the room was surprisingly tidy. The counters were all but bare, save for the coffeemaker and toaster, and to look at the stove top, you’d never know someone cooked on it.

“Are you sure you actually live here?” she asked, only half joking.

“Cleaning lady’s worth her weight in gold.”

Nick led her out the other side of the kitchen, past a bathroom and utility room, and down the short hallway to the master suite. The creamy yellow and soft brown duvet looked like it had been freshly laid out, and the matching pillows freshly fluffed. The Robert Bateman print she’d given them as a wedding gift hung above the six-drawer oak dresser and the matching side tables displayed an arrangement of magazines.

“Mark Zuckerberg as
Time
magazine’s Person of the Year?” she chuckled as she followed him back through the kitchen to the other side of the house. “You might want to update your reading material.”

The first room had half a dozen boxes labeled Christmas, a bike with no front wheel, Nick’s old drum set, and a Callaway bag loaded down with scuffed-up golf clubs. A white T-shirt had been tossed over the top of a black duffel bag and a thick red sleeping bag flowed over the edge of the open futon under the window.

“This is Carter’s room when he stays over.”

The next room was home to an empty brown leather tool belt, three cans of paint, a ring of paint samples, various bins of nails and screws, and four or five different carpet samples.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Jayne snickered. “Has that real ‘homey’ feel to it.”

They passed a full bathroom, void of any décor, and moved to the end of the hall where Nick pointed to a room on the right. “That’s the office, and this is my room.”

“Your room? Don’t you use—”

He shook his head, pushed the door open, and stepped aside so she could look in.

Wow
. It was only slightly more inviting than the room with the tool belt. A box spring and mattress had been pushed up against the far wall. There was no bed frame, but at least there
was a thick pillow and what appeared to be a homemade quilt. Other than that, there was a white plastic hamper with a pair of plaid cotton boxers hanging over the side, a huge cushion for Duke, and a three-drawer dresser that matched the big one in the master suite.

His office wasn’t much better, but at least he’d personalized it a little with a wood-framed picture of Abby smiling up from the corner of his paper-strewn desk. Jayne lifted the photo and stared down at it for a long time.

“I’ll say this much for her, she sure was beautiful, wasn’t she?” Jayne might not have been head cheerleader for Team Abby, but there was no denying the woman was gorgeous. Eat-your-heart-out-Elle-Macpherson gorgeous.

“Yeah.” Nick’s voice was quiet, distant. “She was something.”

With hair the color of honey and eyes so green you’d swear she wore colored contacts, Abby was the girl every guy wanted and every girl wanted to be. Every girl except Jayne. All that attention would have made her crazy, but Abby welcomed it, offering everyone a dazzling smile or a kind word whenever they passed.

The only thing they had in common was Nick; Jayne had grown up with him and Abby had planned to grow old with him.

Nick cleared his throat behind her. “You can take the master suite.”

“What
?
” Jayne set the picture back on the desk, shaking her head the whole while. “Oh no. No no no no no.”

“Why not? It’s there, it’s furnished, and no one uses it.”

“But it’s …” If she widened her eyes as big as she could, would he understand without her having to say it out loud?

“It’s what?” A few seconds passed, then a light seemed to go on in his thick head and he laughed quietly. “We’d only started building before her accident, remember? That room’s never been used, and no, neither has the bed.”

“Then why is it furnished?”

“Mom’s idea.” He shrugged and headed back through to the kitchen. “I thought about selling a few years ago and she figured it’d look better if at least one bedroom was furnished properly.”

“So you take it and I’ll take your room.”

“Nah. I’m good where I am. Besides …” He wagged his brow and grinned. “Now that I
know you’re a girl, we need to keep you as far away from Carter as possible.”

“Yeah, right,” she laughed. “Like he’d ever come horning up on me.”

“He better not.” He pulled the cranberry juice and a lime out of the fridge, then reached into the cupboard above and pulled out the Grey Goose and Grand Marnier.

“Beer’s fine, Nick.”

“You hate beer.” He measured everything into a shaker of ice, grinned as he made a production of shaking the concoction to perfection, then filled a martini glass and slid it toward her.

After he’d opened himself a beer, she clinked her glass against his bottle and took a slow sip of her drink. A good Cosmo trumped a nasty old beer any day.

“This isn’t even a little bit weird to you?” She picked the sticker off the side of the lime, then rolled it up in her palm until Nick held his hand out, fingers wiggling.

“Nope.” He took the sticker from her, then snapped up the lime before she could reach for it. A second later, everything was put away, leaving her with nothing to do with her hands.

“I gotta go walk Duke,” he said. “So why don’t you take your girl drink and … I don’t know … have a bath or something. I won’t be long.”

“A bath? Is that your tactful way of telling me I stink?”

“What? No.” He tried to shrug it off, but Jayne didn’t miss the way his eyes widened or the way his nose twitched a little. “But I don’t have any John Hughes movies and I’m out of Ben & Jerry’s, so I figured a bath was the next best thing.”

How did he remember stuff like that?

He led her back through the master suite and pointed to the double-doored closet in the bathroom. “Mom loaded the place up with towels, different soaps, whatever you need. Toothbrushes are on the top shelf.”

“Extra toothbrushes? Really?”

“Compliments of Pop.” He smiled wide enough to show off his dad’s handiwork. “Straight teeth and toothbrushes. Lots and lots of toothbrushes.”

“Nice,” she chuckled. “Thanks.”

“No sweat. We’ll be back in a bit.” With a quick nod, he whistled for the dog. Long mournful howls answered back before Duke waddled his way outside.

As the claw-footed tub filled, Jayne brushed her teeth, pulled a giant white fluffy towel
from the cupboard, then climbed into the deep hot water. Leaning back, she closed her eyes and exhaled a long slow breath. Nick could say what he liked, but she wasn’t fooled; this was weird. Comforting to know she wouldn’t have to stay in that filthy apartment or a skuzzy hotel room, sure, but weird nonetheless.

There was so much to think about, so much to sort out, but for now she was going to lie back and try to force her mind clear of the mess, both at the store and what was to come when Nick’s girlfriend and mother found out what was going on. She wouldn’t wonder how in blue blazes Gran crammed all that stuff in the store, and she sure as hell wouldn’t think about the smell. Nope. She’d simply enjoy the hot bubbly water and ice-cold drink, and she’d concentrate on breathing, long and slow, in and out, inhaling until her lungs threatened to burst, then exhaling every last bit out.